She's mad but she's magic
by LaughLikeTheJoker
Summary: During his stay in Arkham Asylum, Jerome happens across a particular inmate who is quite...well enchanting.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well hey guys,  
So I've been reading through everyone's Jerome fics and reviewing anonymously since I didn't have an account before.  
All these amazing stories and the wonderful character in Gotham that is Jerome inspired me to finally make my own account and make my own fic, which is currently a one-shot but may turn into a multi-chapter story depending on the response, so I guess read and let me know what you think?**

* * *

 ****It was exactly midnight on the dot when she arrived at Arkham.

A rather strange occurrence since it had never happened before. The inmates had always been admitted to the asylum either early morning, or mid afternoon; midnight on the other hand- that was completely unheard of.

But still there she was, being lead down endless hallways, through metal gates that could only be opened by key card or key. The now peeling paint of the mottled walls were once she imagined, a brilliant stark white that had saddened overtime; dark with mould and damp seeping through cracks and corners leaving a pungent unclean smell which had been attempted to be concealed by the clinically clean smell of bleach.

Her nose wrinkled.

She reached into her jacket pocket, plucking a black silk handkerchief out with a lace gloved hand, and she coughed.

Each step she took in her Victorian heel boots echoed from one end of the hallway right down to the other, then up the walls vibrating right through into the next hall; the hall which housed the inmate's.

That was how Jerome knew she was there.

He lay awake in his cell, one leg draped over the edge of the bed and an arm under his head. That was when he heard it. Heard her. Heard footsteps.

His arm slipped out from underneath his head, which he allowed to hit against the flat cushion that may as well have not been there.

Footsteps.

And not the regular footsteps of the guards or orderlies doing nightly rounds. It was a feminine sound made by heeled shoes clicking against the floor, and it was getting closer.

Hopping off the cast iron bed he bounced over to the tiny barred window that his height allowed him to reach. He had nothing better to do since insomnia wasn't going to grant him any sleep, and the unexpected arrival had made his intrigue pique.

Peering out he managed to catch sight of a small figure flanked by two guards, and noted that the time of her arrival wasn't the only thing strange about her. The costume she was wearing looked out of place, out of era even; and that's exactly what it looked like, not regular clothing but a costume.

She was dressed as though she was a character from some vampiric victorian gothic horror. A black velvet dress coat with patterns of silver around the sleeves and hemline was fastened to conceal an equally dark dress, the only parts of which that were visible being the high lace collar and the ruffled petticoat that swung at her ankles. In fact, he realised there was not much skin visible at all, only her chin and mouth, both pointed and prominent on a pale face. The rest of her was hidden by her clothing, by gloves, by knee high boots and a hat with a netted veil that masked her eyes.

Maybe she was a vampire after all, or at least some kind of loon that thought she was one. It would explain the weird dress and the weird hour of her arrival. Yeah, that had to be it.

He nodded to himself as he imagined it, this small girl surrounded by a pile of bodies each and everyone of them drained of blood and a lone victim squealing in front of her begging to be spared as she parted her thin lips, before sinking pearly teeth into their throat, pulling back after hitting an artery and rendering them dead, crimson liquid dripping down her lips and chin and onto her dark dress making it darker.

The whole idea of it made him laugh uncontrollably.

And she heard it.

She had reached his cell at this point and stopped briefly, head tilting, dark lips parting and her eyes quizzically looking at him through the veil, though he couldn't see it. He half expected her to quicken her pace down the hall; take off running or squeal like the other inmates usually did.

But no, she did something rather unexpected. Her plum coloured pout curled up into a smile.

He laughed louder and harder.

Then the girl was marred from his vision as one of the guards stepped forward, rapping his knuckles against the door to Jerome's cell.

"Quit it Valeska!"

Jerome's laughter continued until the guard yelled out another bout of threats, making the teen's smile fall from his face out of annoyance, especially when the man gripped the girl's shoulder and pushed her forward to get her moving again.

And then she was gone completely from his sight, but he heard her voice, a low and curious hum that said 'how interesting'.

Plopping back down on his bed Jerome mirrored back her words.

How interesting indeed.

* * *

It was afternoon when Jerome saw the strange girl again, he had headed to the lunch hall early to find her during breakfast but she had been a no show; maybe it was the vampire thing, he mused, a wry grin on his face as he kicked out his legs and crossed them on the table in the centre of the rec room later that day.

He had asked the others in the asylum that he had become acquainted with about her; the others being Greenwood, Dobkins and Sionis-mainly Sionis since he knew more than most due to his money and connections. Unfortunately they had all given him blanks, neither knew of any new arrival let alone a strange girl that appeared during the night.

But that was about to change.

Jerome didn't know when it was that she had come to the rec room, just that one moment conversation was flowing like usual, with the odd background noise of wailing and incoherent mumbles, and then it had all stopped. One minute she wasn't there; and then she was.

A whistling noise flooded through the silence, a short tune repeated several times in a variety of pitches, sounding more like a calling or haunting song that made him turn in his seat.

It was coming from her.

She was perched on the window ledge, one leg crossed over the other and feet dangling above the floor, bare with toenails painted with a black glitter looking like a malevolent pixie.

Her hair wasn't black like he had formerly thought, but a dark purplish red that danced in different variations of colour underneath the flickering fluorescent light. It was completely straight this time too, the few curled strands having been brushed out.

But he still couldn't see her face.

She was looking out towards the window, though he couldn't begin to fathom why, there wasn't much of a view from the window; just wall and the usual dank overcast sky that was ever present in Gotham.

She lifted a hand clad in the little lace gloves that the staff had for some reason let her keep; and drew a pattern on the condensation in the window, a pattern that soon became a dripping flower, then her hand fell to her lap and she shuffled on the ledge, planting a foot on it as she slouched down a little.

"That's the girl you saw Jerome?"

He waved a passive hand at Sionis, who was also watching the girl with intrigue, and Jerome removed his eyes from her for just a fraction of a second to send the billionaire a warning stare; this one was his.

What he hadn't realised though, was that as he did this, the girl's eyes flitted over to the group, landing on him with a matching ghost of a smirk.

When Jerome looked back again she was tossing a large gold coin into the air and repeatedly catching it, paying no attention to any other body in the room.

His hands hit the table and his legs swung over the edge of his seat, as he leapt up, deciding he was going to go over to her, see what she was all about.

He sauntered over, slouching against the wall beside the window ledge, head tilted in her direction and hands stuffed in the pockets of his trousers.

She continued the same rhythmic motion of flipping the coin into the air and catching it, paying him no mind.

His mouth scrunched up in annoyance and he reached out, snatching the coin before she could. This received a satisfying response. She tilted her chin upwards, startling eyes that were a glowing, anti freeze green sharply fixing on him. He wondered for a split second if they were contacts.

"Hey beautiful."

His grin was positively fiendish, and hers uninterested; but her eyes gave her away- they dazzled with curiosity.

Her pinkish/red lips were formed in such a way, with the top lip shaped into a prominent cupid's bow arch, and her bottom lip much fuller and rounder, with sharp cuts at its points making it look like she was forever mocking you with a devious smile.

"Hey."

She replied sleepily, reaching for the coin but he moved his hand out of reach and held an impish grin in amusement. She was nowhere near as amused, he could almost see her furrowed brows hidden under her bangs.

"I'm Jerome."

She nodded curtly and he sighed, slipping further down the wall as he threw his arms up in the air.

"Come on little vampire, i'm trying to have a conversation here."

This time he heard her laugh.

It was a melodic sound much like the earlier song she had produced; both soft and sharp, cruel and kind. And just as it started it had ended; he wanted her to do it again.

" _Vampire?"_

The word rolled off her tongue slowly, as if she were repeating a word that had been said in a foreign language she had no knowledge of.

She had looked at him incredulously then, wondering why ever he had applied such a title to her, then her eyes widened ever so slightly as it clicked in-last night , of course.

She laughed again though this time was even shorter, followed by the closing of her eyes for a moment and a shake of her head as she tutted.

"How typically, jejune."

Then her eyes opened again, and she gave him a pointed stare.

"Not a vampire."

Jerome huffed, his features forming into a face of a dissatisfied child. Not a vampire? That just made her significantly more boring.

"Then what are ya?"

The strange girl grinned, small pearly teeth like a kitten's and dimples that gave a false impression of sweetness, before she pursed her pink lips in a pondering pout.

"What am I?"

She hummed in a wondering tone as if she were mulling over one of life's biggest unanswered questions like ' _does_ _God really exist'_ or ' _is there life after death'_.

She could tell that she had annoyed him. His smile was twitching and eyes glinting with malicious intent. He was obviously someone who liked attention, a showman from what she could tell of his over-emphasized actions, and that was exactly why she was playing the part of the uninterested, unwilling to share girl; it would only make the ending outcome all the more enjoyable.

Jerome was slowly getting more annoyed with every second. The whole mysterious thing was kind of hot at first, especially paired with the vampire idea, but since that was a bust now she was just plain irritating. He had half a mind to turn back to the table with the others and say to Sionis that he could have her.

But then he saw something in her fingers, golden and glinting under the light.

The coin.

Automatically he looked to his hands and found them empty. When had she took it? And why hadn't he noticed? Jerome shrugged brushing it off. It didn't matter, so she wasn't a vampire, maybe she was some kind of con artist or thief instead.

Her attention had diverted from him and back to the coin.

She twirled her wrist, the coin slipping through the two fingers it was wedged between and into her closed palm.

The action was quick, sharp like a knife plunging into someone's flesh with skilled precision.

Her head lifted not as quick, slowly as she looked at him from down to up, taking in his slouched stance against the wall beside the window ledge, capturing every fragment of his person from the striped uniform he wore in a disheveled manner to the stray strands of carrot orange that fell in front of his eyes, before her eyes and his met; venomous green and vibrant blue. She fluttered her eyelashes, long and black dusting against the top of her cheeks and then she held her clasped hand in front of his face and opened it.

The coin had vanished.

She grinned in satisfaction, reaching out for his wrist with her other hand and pushing his into a fist, prying it open again to show that he now had the coin.

Her hands were small, fingers long and slim and dainty in comparison to his. But he didn't care, her little trick did nothing but irk him and he roughly yanked his arm away from her.

She didn't seem all too offended at all by it though, her lips even curled up into a smile.

"The secret to a good trick, is to make sure the audience is looking the wrong way."

Jerome couldn't be sure whether she was talking about the coin trick or something else, but either way he didn't particularly care, not about her, not anymore.

"You're a magician."

Jerome stated dully, with a roll of his eyes and and sudden boredom in his stance. His head swivelled around to the opposite side of the wall and he slid up straight, ready to walk away.

He didn't like magicians.

She laughed.

Well, it was more like a derisive snort. A short breathy sound an equal combination of bitter and sweet that was made to both mock and entertain.

"Magicaaan."

She drawled out the word, and tipped her head back so her hooded eyes framed by sleepy lashes looked closed.

"No."

This caused the boy to pause in his retreat and she grinned with dimples; he was overly curious now, and a little confused. Which was exactly what she wanted, but she needed to do something to keep him from walking way.

"Oh come now, don't give me that look, a girl's gotta keep some of her secrets otherwise she'll lose her sense of mystery."

She batted her eyelashes innocently a pretend upset pout sitting on her lips.

Jerome realised that is was the longest sentence she had given him, and that it was one of the only times she hadn't mirrored his own words. She had been playing a game with him the whole time, and the fact that she had broken out of it meant that she actually had wanted his attention after all.

Well, he supposed it was rude to deny a lady of what she wanted.

"Yeah well that whole secrets and mystery shtick gets boring fast."

Jerome responded, lifting a hand to his mouth and yawning before settling into his signature grin.

"Oh? I heard it's supposed to be rather attractive."

Now he just had to laugh, the girl was hitting on him?

That was just hilarious.

"Yea, well maybe a little bit."

In between his laughter he managed a few words, but couldn't help as the shrill sound became all consuming, echoing throughout the whole room.

Her head tilted on it's side, eyes fixed on his shaking form as the fit of laughter reverberated through him, and she watched him much like a pet owner would watch their newborn kitten play with a ball of yarn.

Eventually his laughter subsided and he cleared his throat, putting on a look of seriousness, though she had to bite back laughter of her own upon seeing this, especially when such and expression was paired with his action of swaying against the wall and rocking backward and forward on the heels of his feet; he really couldn't stay still could he?

"So you're not a magician, and not a vampire...some kind of witch?"

Jerome had asked half joking, and knowing this she had offered a wry smirk.

"Some kind."

She nodded in confirmation and her eyes sparkled suggestively. Jerome' raised an eyebrow, leaning in further toward her with an expression that meant 'tell me more'.

She matched his close proximity, leaning in so her words would fan over his face, and she held his intrigued stare with a green eyed intensity.

"I prefer the term Enchantress."

Then before he could make the next move she slipped off the ledge planting her feet on the floor, smoothing down the skirt of her striped dress.

"Well it's about time I perform a disappearing act."

She joked, making a jibe at his earlier accusation of her being a magician. Then she swept past him, her arm just barely brushing against his side but it was enough to leave a lasting impression.

She paused a few steps forward, turning back to look at the tall teen, raising a hand and waving her fingers as if she were conducting a spell.

"Goodbye for now Jerome."

And then she spun around, the skirt of her dress fanning out around her and then she was gone.

Jerome dropped his eyes downward then, towards his palm where the shiny gold coin sat.

"Enchantress huh?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So i've decided this is going to be a multi-Chapter fic!  
You guys have been so sweet with your reviews and since you're all liking it so much I've decided to write more so thanks for the reviews and favourites and follows everyone :D**

* * *

"So who is she?"

Sionis had asked him for what was probably the millionth time, and again for what was also probably the millionth time Jerome had shrugged.

It was almost funny, Sionis asking others for information when he was usually the one _with_ the information.

Jerome would have laughed, he should have.

But he wasn't in the mood to acknowledge hilarity, he was too irked to care.

He could have had the chance to gloat to the others, give them teasing tidbits about the girl that would leave them wanting more, thus giving him a one over on them- that was the plan.

But that was exactly what she had done with him instead.

Every single piece of information he had seeked to gain from her when he had approached her had not been answered, or even given the chance to be asked. He didn't know her name, didn't know why she had been admitted to Arkham, or why it was she was so opposed to daylight-she had skipped breakfast again this morning and he was left without a single clue why.

He didn't have anything on her at all really, just that she claimed to be a witch; well enchantress whatever that meant.

The only thing he could be really certain of was that she was goddamn frustrating.

He hadn't realised it but he had been clenching his fists, only acknowledging that he was doing so when he began to feel the sting of something digging into his skin. Relaxing his hands he let them drop onto his stomach interlocking his fingers after flipping the coin that had been sitting inside his palm on the table.

Jerome watched it briefly as it landed with a bounce, beginning to spiral and spin, refracting the light from the window in a colourful kaleidoscope. Sionis and Greenwood had applied their attention elsewhere, while Dobkins was clapping his hands and watching the spinning coin with glee. Dropping his gaze from the coin too he stretched out his fingers in front of him, then pressed the palm of his left hand close to his face.

The coin had left a red imprint.

A small smudgy pink image of a girl with birdlike wings and long hair now marked him palm, and he rubbed over it with his thumb until it vanished.

When he moved it back to join his other hand he saw her at the door.

The guards had parted like the red sea to make way for her, an interesting action since usually they would be rather handsy, pushing and shoving inmates in and out through the door. Jerome watched as she lingered in the entryway, and she turned her head; reddish purple hair hitting the arm of the guard on her right, the man bristled staggering back and she smirked, lifting her chin skywards and then she made eye contact with Jerome.

With a large cheshire grin he winked and cocked his head towards the vacant space on the bench beside himself. She acknowledged him with the widening of her smirk into a secretive smile with a small flash of teeth.

And then she was walking towards him.

Jerome straightened in his seat, sending a victorious grin towards the others vacating the table before turning back to her as she reached them.

Her expression was an unreadable mask, lips pursed nonchalantly and her eyes avoiding him.

She pushed through the bubble of Jerome's personal space to reach a slender milky white arm outwards, a gloved hand capturing the still spinning coin.

All at once he found his senses overwhelmed by her, the heady perfume of honey and some kind of flower that he didn't know the name of clung to her, invading his sense of smell making his nose twitch and eyes water. And her skin both cool and warm to the touch was barely touching him but it _was_ touching, until it wasn't and she started to withdraw backwards.

His arm sprung forward and he captured her wrist in his hand.

But it was like trying to hold onto air and her featherlight fingers brushed from his palm to his fingertips and she ghosted away an unmistakeable whisper of a laugh following her over to the windowsill where she sat herself down.

Jerome gritted his teeth.

He knew exactly what she was doing-what she was _trying_ to do, and he wasn't about to let her get away with it.

Trying to make a fool of _him_ , trying to play games with _him_.

She batted her eyelashes like an innocent doe, copying his earlier action of gesturing towards the seat beside her.

Jerome grinned, as a sudden idea sparked in his head.

If she wanted to play then he'd play to, and of course he was going to make sure he won.

He shuffled in his seat and she gave him her full attention, expectantly waiting for him to head to her side. Smiling wider he sent her a wink from across the room, sinking back down into his seat with a slouch, propping his feet up on the empty space adjacent to him and putting an elbow on the table, head resting in his palm.

He watched happily as her brow furrowed and she pouted, upturning her nose and looking away indignantly because he had stayed put.

Then he laughed; she hadn't expected that.

But in all actuality, she had.

She knew exactly what he was going to do, boys like Jerome didn't play into other people's hands-at least not willingly. No, boys like that had to be given the impression that what they did was not because it was something that someone wanted them to do, but because it was a benefit for them, something they wanted to do themselves.

She side eyed him and found him still watching her, his grin now following through with laughter when she folded her arms over her chest and huffed.

She waited a few moments longer, not too long but not with such haste and she patted down her skirt as she slid off the window ledge.

Then she started walking.

But it wasn't over to Jerome, no she found middle ground and decided to occupy an empty table that had a pile of pencil crayons and paper scattered across it.

She snagged a piece of paper from the pile, her lace clad fingers nimbly moving to fold the corners, before smoothing them out again and she waited.

Jerome thought she was sulking and his laugh flooded through the entire room. Deciding he would let her do exactly that until she eventually came to him herself. But then after a few moments he found himself bored, and Sionis kept pestering him to go talk to her before he or one of the others did instead.

"Fine."

The red head threw his hands up in the air and slunk off the bench, heading over to the girl.

He approached from behind, hands over his kneecaps as he crouched to become level with her. His cheek pressed against hers and he could feel the transition of her skin from cold to hot and could feel the smile pulling up the corners of her mouth when he said 'that was cute'.

Her fingers dropped the folded paper and she spun in her seat, Jerome quickly acting to trap her between his arms by moving them either side of her and on the table behind.

She tilted her head back to look up at him slightly annoyed.

"Kittens and puppies are cute."

She began, her voice holding that foreign lilt that made her seem all the more otherworldly.

"I can assure you that you'll be able to find more befitting adjectives for me."

Jerome had laughed at her less than amused tone and he flopped down beside her slinging an arm around her sharp shoulders pulling her closer.

She had rolled her eyes and then rolled her shoulders so his arm fell away and he easily wrapped it around her again and gave her a look as if to say 'i'll just keep doing it again'.

"So,like enchantress?"

He waggled his eyebrows and she allowed a small smile.

"Perhaps."

She said through a sideways glance at him which turned into a wink.

Enjoying the exchange Jerome laughed once more, the noise and action vibrating through his body, down his arm and over to her.

Then he removed his arm suddenly, spinning in his seat to eagerly face her as he clapped his hands creating a loud boom.

"I know how about something other than just _some_ adjective!"

Jerome said in a rushed tone, his words rolling off his tongue without so much as a breath in between.

"What do you suggest?"

She had asked through a smile, curiosity dancing in her emerald eyes.

"Oh I don't' know..."

Jerome drawled off shrugging as he rolled his head over his shoulder and then turned back to her. Her brows had furrowed, he noticed the small shift behind her bangs and could have laughed at the action.

"Oh wait I do know!"

He exclaimed practically jumping up in his seat with so much vigor as his hands planted on her shoulders startling her. Her eyes widened fluttering rapidly and her lips parted in a bewildered o, before she settled into acceptance of his actions and behaviour. This time she sent him a composed questioning look.

"How about your name, your proper name; _Enchantress?_ "

At the question she had laughed-no, giggled.

"My proper name?"

She hummed and shook her head as she upturned a hand half gesturing a shrug.

"Who even knows?"

Now it was Jerome's turn to be confused, what was that even supposed to mean?

"You don't got a name? Or are you just trying to be cute again?"

His forehead creased and she pursed her lips. When he said cute in regards to her, she now realised it meant that she had done something he didn't like.

"It's been so long since i've used my proper name, I forget what it actually is."

She waved her gloved fingers nonchalantly as if it was something menial that could be brushed off easily, but Jerome wasn't about to let it go.

He knew she was an odd one- that was why he liked her, but there was just something not right about this and he didn't quite know what to make of her anymore.

"You can call me whatever name you wish to."

She smiled, a pearly smile all teeth and mirth.

"Well as long as it's not something like Betty or Camille, you can be as creative as you like."

Her tone was decidedly casual, as if he had asked her a question as normal as what her favourite colour was, maybe she was crazy after all. Or maybe she was just looking to amuse herself.

He moved his mouth to comment, but she halted him from doing so, finger jolting upwards to hold a pause.

"Oh and nothing dirty."

She finished with a small quip of a smirk and dimples and fluttering lashes and a giggle. Jerome pulled his features into a look of fake disappointment and whined.

"I thought you were supposed to be fun."

Then she leaned in head tilted eyes half closed and her breath a cool whisper as her fingers picked up the fabric of his unbuttoned striped shirt, thumbs running over the buttons.

"I'm lots of fun."

When his eyes fixed on her he found her looking over his shoulder, regarding the occupants of the table Jerome was previously sat at, all watching her.

Loosening her grip she lifted a hand and waggled her fingers, then placed a hand on the teens arm.

"Introduce me to your friends won't you?"

He huffed in a childlike manner as he had done before and scowled.

"Why would you want to know those bozo's when you can get to know me."

The girl shrugged, a delicate twitch of her shoulders and she hummed like a songbird.

"Because, I wish to know why they want to know about me so badly, they sent a teenage boy to come say hi."

She folded her arms and sat back, giving a look that either said explain yourself or take me to them. Jerome chewed on the inside of his cheek; she was smart this one-but was she too smart? Because that would be a problem.

"Who says I came over here because they wanted me ta, I saw you first before any of them remember?"

His animated voice dipped darkly at the ends, allowing her to know that he hadn't like her previous words. He broke out of the dark spell when her hand that was placed on his arm travelled downwards, capturing his hand and bringing it up to the light and studying curiously. He pulled away to see for himself what she had found so interesting, was the witch palm reading or something?

No.

His brows furrowed and his forehead wrinkled into a frown. In the middle of his palm was an angry pink mark, the exact same as the indentation the coin had made earlier-but he had watched it vanish. He pressed his thumb to the wound and hissed, a burning sensation like a nettle sting or a burn spreading outwards towards his fingertips.

"Let me see it."

She had demanded, giving him no choice but to allow her demand as she grabbed his hand in both of hers. Her fingers underneath the gloves were icy, following the pattern stamped into his skin and then they were warm and then warmer, his hand tingling as each cycle of tracing she conducted made the imprint weaker and weaker until it was gone. He stared at the blank canvas of his hand for a moment longer, mesmerized; before turning back to her and she smiled smugly.

"What was that about?"

He had asked and she gave him that secretive look and that untelling hum which meant he would not get an answer.

"Let's go see your friends."

She pressed, holding his eyes with hers and finally he relented, swaying an arm forward.

"After you."

He sighed, waiting till she had moved to her feet, feet which he noticed were now covered with little white frilled socks; and then he rolled off the bench following behind her.

She perched delicately on the end of the bench, crossing her legs at the ankle and folding her arms in her lap like a dainty china doll, though he knew she was anything but.

He gestured towards her with large hand movements waving towards her space before he hopped over the bench and into the gap between her and Dobkins.

"Boys, i'd like you to meet..."

He trailed of when he remembered he didn't have a name for her and chewed his lip for a moment while he thought.

Finally coming up with something Jerome grinned impishly.

"I'd like you to meet Jane."

She snorted, muffling the sound and her amused laughter by pressing a fist to her mouth, composing herself before whispering lowly.

"Jane? Rather dull isn't it?"

Jerome responded also with a whisper, quiet even though it skittered excitedly.

"Exactly, plain Jane because you're anything but. Its funny."

He chuckled as she shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Jane, that's Sionis, Greenwood, Dobkins and that there is Aaron."

Jerome pointed each and every one of them out, and she regarded them with a mild disinterest as they each in turn oogled her to assess what had been put in front of them. Picking up a lock of her hair she examined the red and purple colours, twisting through her fingers idly.

He had to say he was rather disappointed, he was expecting much more of a show, something much more like she had performed for him; airy words and playful noises.

Sionis seemed to be thinking the same, sighing loudly after several moments of watching and waiting for her to act.

"Jerome told us you're a witch?"

The older man asked with a raised eyebrow, scrutinising her as he questioned waiting for an interesting reaction.

"I assumed he would have."

His eyebrow raised higher, jaw ticking at her lack of response.

"Is it true?"

A small smirk and that was all they got.

"There's a slight perchance."

She continued to play with her hair.

"Then show us some magic."

Greenwood requested, leering at her like a kid wood a jar of candy.

She snorted lip curled up in distaste as the group at the table made agreeing sounds, each of them wanting a show.

Jerome himself was curious with what she would do, he had seen the coin trick, then the thing with the red mark whatever it was. Absentmindedly he rubbed the centre of his palm with his thumb.

"Why?"

She asked with bite, eyes narrowed and cold.

Sionis of course, not understanding why anyone wouldn't want to do anything for him assumed the reason why she didn't feel inclined to give them a magic show was because of the guards posted around the room.

"If you're worried about the guards seeing don't, I can make them look the other way."

A bubble of laughter travelled up her throat and past her lips, a chilling sound, melodic and mocking.

"I'm not worried, I just don't see what i've got to prove to a billionaire that loves himself too much, a cannibal, a schizo, and well you get the point."

A slight sneer, Jerome found this rather interesting.

It was a different play than what he had seen from her previously, from the playful and mysterious girl to closed off and cold like ice. Placing his head in his hands he watched the scene around him unfold.

Greenwood let out a disappointed groan.

"I knew it, she's a fake. Just some silly little girl that pretends she's a witch so people can call her crazy and give her attention."

The girl who was chewing on her bottom lip released it from her teeth with a pop, and Jerome noticed the sudden change in her behaviour, her usual languid state had sharpened her eyes and smile vitriolic.

"The only fake at this table is you."

She stated, slowly pulling the lace gloves from her hands moving a finger at a time, before depositing them on the table and resting her chin on one hand whilst the other drummed against the table's surface.

Jerome noticed her hands were painted the same black colour as her glittered toes had been,and that her nails were shaped perfectly into small pointed tips.

"You think you're bad but you're just a brute with a bad temper and an unusual diet."

This had angered Greenwood, something which Jerome realised she had expected it to do, as her lips twitched at the corners when the man vibrated angrily and pounced from his seat toward her.

But just as fast her hand not holding her head had flicked upward, and Greenwood was forcefully pushed back into his seat and restrained by an invisible force.

And that invisible force was her.

She smiled sweetly batting her eyelashes like a doll, speaking in a sugary sing-song voice.

"Not a little girl."

Greenwood growled out something including the word bitch, or maybe it was witch or even a mixture of both of them.

Then Jerome heard the small crackling sound, like a spark from a plug not being inserted into a socket correctly creating a zap of electricity, he saw her fingertips, saw the green sparks the same colour as her eyes, dancing around the black glitter polish. Sparks that were so small they would be unnoticeable to anyone not at the table. And then she moved her fingers, like a puppeteer pulling the strings of a marionette and he saw the green sparks travel, like visible static electricity around and between each of her dainty fingers.

And then he noticed Greenwood. He noticed how the hairy fools face changed from red-anger, to white-shock and then purple-pain. Peeking out through the collar of the cannibals shirt were lichtenberg figures; a murky greenish grey colour pulsing just like the vibrant fireworks produced in the girl's hands. Greenwood spluttered and winced, a growled gasp as his neck was forced to the left in an awkward angle, threatening to break but not quite there.

Jerome looked away from the brute to turn back to his intriguing enchantress, and that was when he really saw her, saw what she really was. She was an angel, expelled from heaven into the fiery pits of hell where Satan himself had spat her back out and left her with a ferocious fire, she smiled forks tongues of fire, her eyes blazing like a rising phoenix that would burn the world down on a whim.

She oozed power and enjoyed it.

And he had to admit he rather enjoyed it too.

Greenwood's gasping became more urgent, his hands moving to his chest and throat pressing against them if he could push the oxygen back inside his body.

And then she spoke.

Commanding and cold and cruel.

"A little tip for future reference. For all of you."

Here eyes circled each and everyone in their group before she continued.

"Don't underestimate a woman, it's so retro."

Then she smiled with a fake warmth, flicking her hand backwards and releasing Greenwood from her glowing green grasp.

"And whatever you do don't make her mad."

She had got up from her seat and left them then. And Jerome watched her when she walked, it was almost like a dance but not quite, she didn't just walk she moved with intention commanding the room and the attention of everyone in it.

Yeah, he nodded to himself. The Enchantress was definitely a fitting name for her.


End file.
